<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>A Strong Tower by Sourboi</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24922099">A Strong Tower</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sourboi/pseuds/Sourboi'>Sourboi</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Avengers (Marvel Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Avengers Family, Avengers Feels, Avengers Tower, Comfort, Domestic Avengers, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Found Family, Metafiction</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 05:14:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,112</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24922099</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sourboi/pseuds/Sourboi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>aka the Avengers found family that Joss Whedon deprived us of. I may expand on this later, but for now have this comfort.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Pepper Potts/Tony Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Strong Tower</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>For a while, it’s just Tony and Pepper in the tower. Them and the army of construction workers marching through as they repair the damage done by the Chitari. Tony makes a point of replacing the bar; he doesn’t want anything that Loki might’ve touched. But when the workers leave for the night, and Happy retreats to the security desk on the first floor, Tony and Pepper have the tower to themselves. It’s nice. Tony brings champagne and they have picnics on the half-destroyed balcony. Pepper nags him into signing all the important documents, bribing him with kisses for each one. They argue about wallpaper and how many coffee-makers is too many (the consensus is twelve). They take turns dealing with Fury and Shield, for ordering takeout, and then they lounge on the plastic-covered couch and complain about the horrors of bureaucracy. It’s almost romantic.</p>
<p>Steve is the first one to show up. New York is bigger than he remembers, and louder, and much more expensive. His old apartment in Brooklyn costs five times what his mother used to make, adjusting for inflation. The army’s agreed to give him a pension, but it’s not enough. He doesn’t have anywhere else to do. He says he promises to pay Tony rent, everything he can afford, and he’ll stay out of their hair as much as possible. Tony slings an arm around Steve’s tall, broad shoulders (as much as he can reach, anyway), and guides him to a floor in the middle of the tower. It’s not quite finished, but it’s all Steve’s. The decor is all from the 40′s, minus the modern appliances which Tony has ordered specially to fit in with the aesthetic. There’s soundproofing and a holographic window in the bedroom that can be switched to an old New York skyline. Tony shows him the training room on the fourth floor, and the lounge on the fifth, and asks his opinion on whether the penthouse should have a Jacuzzi. Steve doesn’t get it until Tony hands him the keys and tells him not to leave his shoes in the hallway. He can stay for as long as he wants, no rent required. In fact, Tony expects him to stay for a long time. Steve smiles, the first genuine one he’s offered Tony. The next day he’s up in the penthouse, asking the construction workers how to work the dvd player on his floor, and Tony thinks it’ll work out just fine.</p>
<p>Bruce arrives close on Steve’s heels, wringing his hands so hard they start to chafe. He just needs somewhere to lie low for a little while; it seems like no matter how far he goes, there’s always someone tailing him now. Shield, the press, more shadowy and suspicious figures that openly stare him down in the streets. Tony shows him his rooms on the second floor– close to the ground, where he can’t do much damage– decked out in soothing colors and with a remote-activated speaker system that plays smooth jazz. There are stashes of blueberries hidden in nearly every drawer and cupboard, just in case. That night Steve makes dinner, instead of the usual take-out, and they make it through the whole of The Empire Strikes Back without Tony spoiling the ending.</p>
<p>Clint and Natasha turn up tanned and teasing each other mercilessly. The looked that haunted Clint’s eyes since his liberation isn’t gone, but it’s dimmed. Natasha’s eyes flick over every potential exit, every security camera, until she’s introduced to her rooms on the third floor; high enough to deter attacks, but low enough for an escape. They’re sparse, since, as Tony laments, she refuses to divulge so much as her favorite color. He assures her, though, that she can redecorate however she wants. Hang Russian flags from every wall and fill the kitchen with borscht, if she sees fit. That’s enough to drag a smile out of her, though Tony knows he’ll pay for it later. Clint’s rooms are the opposite: high, for the watchman, and filled with the height of technology and comfort. Clint jokes that all it’s missing is a bar and a babe, and immediately makes himself at home on the couch. Later he’ll meet with Natasha in the training rooms, going back and forth like a violent dance. For them, it’s better than any heart-to-heart.</p>
<p>Thor is the last to arrive, and it’s a surprise that he arrives at all. But he’s there, muttering something about Odin’s beard and brothers and responsibilities. Tony hadn’t expected Thor, but there’s a floor for him nonetheless, right at the very top. It’s elegant– probably not up to the standards of a god, but Thor offers nothing but gratitude. Like Steve, the amount technology is minimal. For what there is, Tony offers to give him lessons on Earth customs. Thor readily agrees. He scans the skyline, not with the arrogance of the immortal on the helicarrier, but with the respect and wariness of a man thrown into the sleeping lion’s den with only a stick to defend himself. The next time Tony sees him, he’s traded his tunic and cape for a pair of jeans and a shirt with ‘Stark Industries’ emblazoned across the chest. It suits him. Thor laughs and says that Pepper has promised to take him shopping, and that perhaps Tony would be well inclined to join them.</p>
<p>It takes time, but they make their home in the tower. Dinners are more often than not enjoyed together in the penthouse. The dining table hosts a constant rotation of home cooking (failed just as often as not) and take-out. Thor insists on trying all the cuisines Earth has to offer, and there are a few Steve has missed out on during his nap. The training room is occupied nearly all the time, sometimes as a team, sometimes in pairs or solitude. When, in the wee hours of the morning, training replaces sleep, either Tony or Steve is notified. They don’t always join, but they always wait up for as long as it takes. They’re a team, and that means looking out for each other, even at the cost of sleep. It’s not all cohesive, of course. There are fights over the coffee maker and which movie to watch, of old grievances and future worries. They are different people from different worlds. Co-habitation is in itself an achievement. But they push through each time, knitting themselves closer, weaving tighter, until they are seamless. They are a patchwork crew, made of discarded scraps and broken bits, but they’ve repaired themselves. They’ve made themselves a home. And damn if anyone is going to take it from them.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>